Cupcake? LOL
by Cut Myself Shaving
Summary: A collection of short stories. Babe HEA. No animals were harmed in the making of these stories. One certain hairy man may be harmed, hurt, maimed, broken, damaged, or worse.
1. Cupcake? LOL

**Cupcake? LOL.**

I saw the diamond. Bright. Shining. Beautiful. Even from a distance. I heard him pop the question. I heard her say yes. I saw them kiss. I couldn't say I was happy for him, though I was sure I felt something. I smiled and paid for my pizzas. The man behind the counter looked a bit awkward and embarrassed for me. I wanted to assure him I really didn't care about the ring. Joe was entitled to be happy without me. He now got the girl in his dream. She cooked. She baked. She loved dogs and children. She did the laundry. She taught Sunday school. She vacuumed and cleaned. She would be a most perfect Mrs. Joe Morelli. What would my mother say? What would the neighbors think?_ Ah, poor Stephanie_? I rolled my eyes, pushed the door open, and walked out into the wind. Summer had gone away without saying goodbye. My ex-boyfriend was going to be married. Now autumn was here. I'd made my choice. I'd stood my ground. My life. My fate. My decision. Diamond was nothing but an expensive rock. I got in my car and drove toward the 7-floored building.

The man I loved was waiting for me.


	2. With This Ring

**With This Ring **

I heard them hissing. Cruel words. False accusations. Even from a distance. I knew he was about to erupt. I suspected soon she was going to be in tears. Smooth curly hair. Impeccable makeup. Nice pretty dress. She indeed was very lovely. I could see the ring on her slender finger. Untrained dog. Crazy Grandma. Long and unsteady working hours. Pain in the ass future in-laws. What was the problem this time? Hot Italian man. Sweet Irish girl. Trouble in Paradise. Would there still be a wedding? Everyone looked away and tried their best to eavesdrop. The man behind the counter looked intrigued. I felt an urge to assure him that I was definitely not gloating. I just wanted to pay for my pizzas and get the Hell out of here.

He turned to stare at me just as I was about to push the door open. Ah, unlucky me. A gust of wind rushed onto my face. I could hear her raise her voice. _Geez, Joe. What will your mother say? What will your friends think? Just apologize like a man and get it over with. _I got in my car. I started the engine. I drove away. I didn't look back.

My Porsche purred all the way back to the 7-floored building.


	3. I Thee Wed

**I Thee Wed**

She clinches her teeth and closes her eyes. The sounds of the night dance outside the windows and whisper in the dim light. She gives up and sits up and stares at the man beside her. Her name is Emily. Emily Morelli, nee Hasting. She's thirty-one years old, makes the best apple pie in the world, and loves red red roses and homemade ice cream. And tonight, she tried and tried and tried but still cannot sleep. Now her headache is building into a major migraine, and both her eyes have started to twitch.

Love. Trust. Laughter. And babies. Joe's smiling eyes. Joe's wonder hands. Joe's magic lips. Joe's funny dirty jokes. Joe's sweet garlic breath. Her beautiful shining diamond ring. Her heart. Her soul. And her vows. Happiness. Loyalty. A promise to keep. Joe's dirty laundry. Joe's shady history. Joe's hot Italian temper. Joe's stubbornness. Joe's secret dreams.

This is not what she bargained for. She most definitely didn't sign up for this.

She has to put a stop to this.

She grabs hold of her pillow, takes a deep calming breath, puts it on Joe's face, and holds it right there. Till he stops twitching.

She smiles and yawns and finally loosens her grip. There, the snoring has stopped. Now she can finally, finally, have a good night's sleep.


	4. Till Death Do We

**Till Death Do We**

She wakes up, smile happily, and yawns. The lovely cozy bedroom is now bathed in morning sunlight. She just had a good night's sleep. And a sweetest dream. In which she was still eighteen and madly in love with Donovan Sanders, the tall lanky boy living just down the street. He was her first, and they shared the same dreams. But now, she's Emily Morelli, and she doesn't know where Donovan is. Time had torn them apart. And, from time to time, she still dreams of the night she gave herself to him in the backseat of his cousin's pickup truck. She can close her eyes and see all the stars in the sky and Donovan's smile, and feel his warm breath on her bare skin. First love never dies. She sits up and lets out a sigh, and turns to contemplate the still unmoving man on the other side of the bed.

Cautiously she sniffs the air, decides there's no foul or strange smell in the air, and puts a tentative hand on Joe's neck. He's not cold yet, and she can feel a very faint pulse. Well, someone has to go out to work, bring home the bread, and pay all the bills. And she doesn't want to go to jail. So she braces herself, starts pounding on Joe's extremely hairy lean muscular chest, and then breathes air into his gaping mouth. Soon he starts to cough and slowly regain consciousness. She smiles brightly and congratulates herself. Good thing she knows CPR and has a certificate.

"Rise and shine, Joe."

But she will definitely cut down on the garlic from now on.


	5. In Sickness And In

**In Sickness And In**

He just had the weirdest dream. In the dream he was dead, and Emily, his sweet and always perfect Emily, was laughing like a crazy witch. He stared at her and could not breathe. The world was snowing. Winter was already here. He turned his head and saw his still warm dead body. He tried to remove the pillow. He tried to yell for help. He tried to beg for Emily's mercy. Nothing worked. He failed. He stood there and heard the howling wind. What had he done? What had she done? What the Hell had happened? Why? Oh Why? Was there a reason for everything? He just stood there and had too many questions. Then he, somehow, once again, thought of Stephanie. He was now dead and she, undoubtedly, mist be very happy. Even if she didn't have a diamond ring. Even if she was living in sin with a lawles man, that tall dark crazy mercenary.

All of a suddenly he felt the familiar biterness. His heart burst inside his ribcage. Pain. Great scorching pain. Something cold and cruel and extremely unpleasant pulled him out of this cozy ooziness. He came back to the land of the living and started coughing. The first thing he saw when opening his eyes was Emily's smiling face. "Rise and shine, Joe." Her voice was so sweet and beautiful and innocent that it scared the shit out of him. And now, as he hastily chews and swallows the perfectly baked homemade English muffin, he feels the desperate need to fight off the sudden insecurity. Everything on the breakfast plate is just as perfect as his darling wife and they frighten him. He eats his breakfast as quickly and quietly as possible, trying his best not to do anything sudden or say anything stupid to provoke or anger Emily.

Detective Joe Morelli cringes inside a little as he finishes his breakfast and kisses his lovely wife goodbye. He doesn't know why but he decides he'll make appointment this morning with his doctor about snoring, and he will also buy her some flowers and help with the dishes after dinner this evening. Red roses, she loves red roses. He gets in his car and drives away as his wife stands on the porch waving at him.

He wants to stay alive. He's only thirty-six.


	6. To Have, And To Hold

**To Have, And To Hold**

I wrap myself in the blanket and fall asleep.

I walk down the pavement and come to a house. The bricks on the wall look like candy. A cat looks out from the window and stares at me. I push open the door and walk in. The cat is nowhere to be seen. I am here for someone. I am here to find something. I walk on and never make a sound. The house is quiet. I no longer hear the whirling wind. The loneliness tastes as light as an ounce of cloud. For some reason, I smile. I know this place. I have been here before. I climb the stairs and take the right turn. And there it stands, the ancient oak closet. Huge, and heavy. Smells like a pine forest. A pair of arms wraps around me. I lean back into the muscular chest. The sweet scent of Bulgari. I hope he remembered to close the doors. I don't want anyone to walk in on us. I am currently with someone else, technically.

He tightens his arms. I let out a sigh. I feel happy. So happy. His lips land on my neck. I close my eyes and gaze into the bright darkness. We are inside the closet. We are safe here. For this brief moment. This stolen forty-nine minutes. He is mine and I am his. No one can get between. When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory too. He will smile at me and walk away. I will smile at him and pretend everything is the same. It's a game we play. We are both grown-ups here. We laugh at empty words. We don't do stupid things. We toy with our hearts. We sing and dance and steal another kiss in the dark alley when everyone is watching. I don't need another hero. He never wants a ring. Frodo Baggins. On the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. The Balrog. Gandalf. Fell off the bridge into the endless deepness of Moria. The dwarves. The orcs. The elves. Dangerous. Careless. Greed. Will I ever be able to forget the touch of his lips? Will I ever want to want another man? Yes. I know. I am being greedy...

We hear footsteps. They come closer. Closer. And closer. I start to panic. I am not fully dressed. I can't find my bra. They are going to yank at the closet doors. They are going to find us. I take a step backward. My heart won't stop racing. I press against his perfect body. He's hard. So hard. I take another step backward. We stumble into a word of whiteness. We find Narnia!

I open my eyes. I blink. I turn to look into the eyes of the man beside me. He raises a brow at me. The seventh-floor apartment is as quiet as usual. I have found my Dark Knight and I don't think I need a ring to prove anything. I smile at him and say the first thing that pops in mind.

"The dwarves of Moria dug too deep."

And he laughs as I wrap myself around him. "No shit, Sherlock."


	7. For Better, Or For Worse

**For Better, Or For Worse...**

We exchange pleasant smiles. I can't help feeling a little bit awkward. Actually, I kind of like her. She's everything I am not, yet we are, in fact, not that different. About the same height. About the same weight. About the same build. Almost the same hair color, but different hue. I am here at the deli for a quick sandwich. She's shopping for lunch, dinner, and breakfast. Yeah, I heard she's an amazing cook. But I know how to bake chocolate chip cookies out of frozen dough. I also heard that she has tamed the beast in Joe. Once again my eyes fall on her wedding ring. It looks perfect on her slender hand. Sweet, gentle Emily, the current and hopefully the only Mrs. Joe Morelli.

"Ciao, Stephanie."

Her smile is warm and really cute. I give her a little finger wave and pay for the sandwich, trying hard not to think of all those unnecessary silly questions. I am glad she's happy. I am glad Joe's happy. Of course I am aware people are watching. Sometimes this city feels like a circus. Everybody is holding their breath in case the juggler drops something and the acrobat falls from the swing. Maybe it's time to plan a trip to Vegas. We can go to one of the Cirque du Soleil Shows, try our luck in the casino, and watch sunrise in the desert...I drop my lunch and grab my phone. Ranger answers after one ring.

"Has your problem with the state of Nevada gone away?" My tone is light. My heart skips a beat. Am I sending the wrong message? My eye starts to twitch.

"Babe,"


End file.
